Work Text:
He doesn’t acknowledge it until Eleanor points it out.
It’s hot down in the parking garage, thanks in part to the late summer heat. He leans against an old, abandoned car, arms crossed, fingers tapping against himself because he can barely go a moment without some form of movement. The lighting is dim in here, but what little there is makes the sweat on your skin shine. He can see it on your bare arms, on your face, on your neck and chest; exposed by the black, sleeveless undershirt you’ve chosen to wear. Arthur is sweaty too, but not nearly as much; he’s exerting far less energy for this sparring session than you are.
Usually you fight in a frame in a more open space, where the combat can be a little deadlier, more exciting. The others like to watch. But Arthur has decided you need training outside of your meat-suits. Your normal, human body (are you even human anymore?) needs to be better prepared. That little gun you carry and your weird Voidy powers won’t always save you.
He’s probably right, but you’re no weakling outside of your frames. You’re strong, know how to fight well enough to get out of a small skirmish, perhaps. But your body, whatever you might be now, is still just human enough; it still has limits.
Arthur wants to see you break them.
He stands close (a little too close, in Amir’s opinion), at your back, adjusting your body to a better stance. You listen and follow his instruction, face flush from the heat, chest heavy with your breaths. Amir wonders how anyone could stand that close to you, see you like this, and still remain so stoic and firm.
He doesn’t think he’d even be able to speak if he was in Arthur’s place.
But Arthur is Arthur; dark, broody, strong Arthur. Sexy bastard. You could be naked and panting and begging Arthur to ravage you right there, and Amir bets the man would remain just as cool and serious and unfazed.
Shit. Now Amir is thinking about you naked and Arthur’s hands are on your hips to fix your stance again, and Amir’s fingers clench into fists. He has never felt so conflicted in his Soldamn life. He can’t - CAN’T - be such a dickhead about Arthur, even if it’s just in his own head! Arthur saved him. Arthur suffered for him. If anyone deserves your attention, it’s Arthur. Not him . Not Amir.
Fuck.
“Ah… jealousy. Not the prettiest emotion, but a powerful one. It does not suit you, but I suppose I cannot blame you for it.”
FUCK.
She is in his head, but for once Eleanor has also chosen to leave her couch behind and wander out into the garage. She pauses at Amir’s side, eyes fixed on her brother and you. There is a small smile teasing the corner of her lips.
“Don’t worry. I will tell no one.”
Part of him wants to deny it, but if any of the Hex were to tell him he was jealous, he knows Eleanor would be the one to believe; she’s the only one who could truly know.
“Can you make it go away?” he asks, voice low just in case you and Arthur can somehow hear him.
Eleanor chuckles. “ No. Nor will I attempt to, unless it interferes with our job here. Jealousy is a burden and a trial, and it is one you must face on your own.”
There is a pause, during which he and Eleanor both watch as Arthur - for not the first time - knocks you off your feet. The team leader is quick, though, and grabs your arm before you can hit the ground, pulling you back to your feet and keeping you from a hard landing on the concrete below. A wave of… something… stirs in the pit of Amir’s stomach. He doesn’t like it.
“Hm… if it helps, I can tell you whether or not our Drifter harbors… deeper affection for my brother?”
There is a split second where Amir actually considers this, but he shakes his head.
“I don’t think I want to know, not without Future’s consent.”
Eleanor hums, pleased. “A good choice. I would not enjoy the guilt of betraying such trust.”
There is a part of him that does want to know, and he is trying to shove that part down somewhere deep and far, far away. Regardless of how you feel about Arthur, Amir knows you can’t feel anything for him . Why would you? You’re his friend - a good friend, if the nights you’ve spent helping him and his anxieties are anything to go by. But being a good friend doesn’t mean anything… more. Besides, out of all the Hex, he’s probably the last one you’d ever choose.
Not that he’s put any extensive thought into this at all…
Oh Sol, who is he kidding (certainly not Eleanor, who is glancing at him and he is trying very very hard to pretend he doesn’t notice). He has thought about it. About you. A lot. But it’s easier to deny. Pretend that - in the chaos of his stupid fucked up brain - you’re not the one thing that feels calm and steady, anchoring him when things become too much. If he acknowledges it, if he lets himself admit how much he genuinely likes you, if he even allows a moment of hope…
No. It will hurt so much more when he’s eventually turned down, or when you find yourself dating someone else. Better he tries not to think about it.
… But sweet Lua, it’s so fucking hard .
“Mm, how long has it been since I have felt the aches of a crush? It will become easier, if memory serves.”
Is that what this is? Just a little ‘crush’? Somehow it feels different. He’s not sure how, or why, or what to even call it. All he knows is he likes you and he doesn’t like the way you’re looking at Arthur right now, or the way Arthur is suddenly smiling at something you’ve said (when the fuck does Arthur ever smile anymore??) and that bad feeling is stirring inside of him again.
If Eleanor can feel this she doesn’t say a word. You and Arthur have finished your spar and are walking towards them now. You look tired, but happy, and are staring at Amir like you’re actually pleased to see him. It makes something flutter inside. A much better feeling than that other one.
“ Amir, Eleanor,” Arthur greets, before his sister lures him away to discuss something private; leaving you and Amir alone.
Suddenly his throat feels thick.
“I really need a shower,” you’re saying (and now he’s thinking about you showering and that is NOT GOOD right now). “Do you want to go out for pad thai after?”
You remember his favorite food. You remember his favorite food . Does that mean something?? No, definitely not, friends remember shit like this all the time, he’s overthinking it, shut up Amir, stop thinking about showers, god why do you look so good when you’re sweaty like this, Sol he needs to say something -
“I– Um, actually I’ve uh– I’ve got something – Lettie needs me to deliver some supplies rightnowsoIgottagoBYE!”
And he’s gone. Fast. Zoom. Agent Lightning fleeing the scene of his jealous thoughts and embarrassment.
He is going to be overthinking this for the rest of the day and night.
Now that he’s acknowledged it once, he can’t stop noticing it.
It’s there when he sees you playing with Lettie’s rats, and you say something that actually makes the medic laugh .
It’s there when you and Aoi hang out, listening to CD’s, heads close while you attempt to share a single earphone.
It’s there when you sit with Eleanor, having some deep conversation that no one else can hear or feel.
It’s there, of course, when you spar with Arthur.
And it is especially there the night he sees you and Quincy together.
He isn’t following or stalking you, he will swear that on his life. He’s not a creep. But it’s late and he’s always up late, after everyone else (usually), and is doing laps through the mall just to keep his legs and feet busy. He’s on the second level, pauses outside the shop where your backroom lies, but he doesn’t go in. By now he’s noticed the cameras and he doesn’t want you to see him standing there like a creep (which he absolutely is not ). There is a brief moment where he considers seeing if you’re awake, just to talk, maybe tell you about some ideas for his video game or next F&F campaign.
But he doesn’t. Not tonight. You’ve been gone most of the day and are probably tired, so he shouldn’t annoy you.
He turns away, begins to head towards the stairs, but freezes when he hears your voice and sees you and Quincy leaving Quincy’s own personal backroom together.
“Pleasure as always, fam,” Quincy is saying, though he’s keeping his voice low and Amir doesn’t quite catch everything. “... - before someone sees us.”
And you part ways.
And you’re coming towards the stairs.
And suddenly Amir is high-tailing it back the way he came before you can see or notice him there.
Quincy’s words do not leave his head, though.
In his own backroom Amir sits at his desk, playing a pinball game on his PC, thinking way too much about the missing context of what he overheard.
He’s only ever seen Quincy take random people to his private space for obnoxious, loud, sexy fun times. He never, ever, ever once thought you would- were - doing that with Quincy…
It makes sense, though, doesn’t it? He’s a pretty bastard, you’re fucking glorious. Hot people always end up with hot people. And do hot things together. Because they’re hot and not weird annoying nerds with fucked up brains who cry after every nightmare like a fucking baby and yeah no wonder you’d want to get in bed with Quincy, he’s cool and tough and can be charming sometimes when he’s not being a douche-canoe but maybe you like that and fuck Amir really hates his brain right now, like way more than usual.
He’s spiraling a little, trying so hard not to picture you with Quincy (and then doing it anyway because once he thinks, “no brain, stop!” his brain decides to go into overdrive and now it’s ALL he can think about).
When he finally goes to bed, his dreams are filled with you and the bitterness of rejection.
The next day he is not himself. He knows. Everyone knows it. It’s so obvious. He isn’t zipping about, chatting, or being annoying like usual. Isn’t all smiles and goofing off and playing around. He keeps to the arcade, which isn’t unusual in and of itself, but there’s a cloud about him that keeps the others away. Even Aoi, who’s usually so good at cheering him up when he’s down, keeps her distance today.
Good. That’s what he wants. For everyone to leave him alone. Especially you .
But you don’t.
You never know when to just let shit be. Always trying to fix everything, everyone… Not unlike him, always trying to fix any piece of broken code he can find, because he knows he can and it matters and means something to him.
Gods, he admires that in you, but right now he hates it, too.
“Okay, spill.”
You’re standing next to the cabinet he’s currently playing on, eyes boring into him, and he refuses to look up.
“If you want a spill, I knocked over a soda can this morning and haven’t bothered to clean it up yet.”
His tone is so sullen it almost makes himself flinch. There is no way you don’t notice it.
“We’re going to have to talk about your cleaning habits later, but for now… what’s going on, Amir?”
Oh, the way you ask is so low and so soft he can’t help but stop and look at you. Your head is tilted, eyes fixed on him, lips parted just a little while you wait for his answer. Concerned. Open. Caring. His mind takes him back to that night you came looking for him in his room, and held him while he cried. He wants so badly to sink into you again and forget everything else.
He’s failed the level he was working on in his game, but doesn’t notice.
He’s lost his battle to close himself off and keep you out.
It’s a battle he realizes he will never win.
A sigh escapes him and for a moment he just looks so defeated. You reach out, seeking his hand, fingers brushing before he pulls away. The disappointment in your eyes is fucking painful.
“It’s nothing, don’t worry about it. Just a bad night and I’m all out of chocolate-frosted super sugar puffs.”
He tries to smile, but falters, not quite able to fake it when you’re staring at him like that.
“Right, well… I’ll be around if you want to talk, yeah?”
He nods, turns back to his game, says nothing, and doesn’t look up again until you’re gone.
The empty space you occupied feels wrong, the absence of you souring the air.
He shuts down the cabinet and heads to bed early.
It is in the middle of the night when he decides he can’t take this anymore.
Quincy is like the older brother he always wanted (whether Quincy agrees with this role or not). He can’t let something as dumb as a crush and jealousy ruin that.
And you, you’re basically his best friend at this point (sorry Aoi). Whether you ever return his feelings or not (you won’t, he knows this) doesn’t matter. He doesn’t want to push you away. He wants to feel like himself, or as close to himself as he can. He wants to be happy. For you. For Quincy. For everyone. For himself.
Eleanor was right; jealousy does not suit him.
Before he can overthink it and change his mind, he’s at his desk, his PC, KIM opened, a new, blank message open, ready to be typed and sent to you.
H16h V0l7463: fuuuuture
H16h V0l7463: you there?
H16h V0l7463: i've got something to ask that is totally awkward and weird and you're gonna be like wtf amir but i gotta ask cuz its important and ipromiseitsthelastweirdthingilleveraskever
It takes a little while before the messenger indicates you are there and are typing, during which he can feel his heartbeat race.
“Calm down, Amir heart, it’s not like you’re admitting you have feelings or anything. Ugh. Feelings.”
Drifter: Yeah, I’m here. What’s going on?
H16h V0l7463: OKAY SO
H16h V0l7463: dont laugh and don't get mad
H16h V0l7463: this is SUPER important because of like team morale and something idk
H16h V0l7463: you and quincy
H16h V0l7463: are you
H16h V0l7463: …. fuckidkhowtoaskthispleaseholdforahotsec
H16h V0l7463: areyoutwodoingit??
Drifter: Um… doing what?
H16h V0l7463: you know IT hanky panky the devil's tango
H16h V0l7463: ::insertotherstupideuphemismshere::
Drifter: Amir, I have no idea what any of those words mean together.
H16h V0l7463: ……
H16h V0l7463: do you not have sex euphemisms in the future
There is a very long pause.
Drifter: Oh my Sol, you’re asking if I’m fucking Quincy??
H16h V0l7463: i TOLD YOU IT WAS WEIRD
H16h V0l7463: uGH SORRY DONT ANSWER IT DOESN'T EVEN MATTER IDK WHY I ASKED HAHAHAH…..
H16h V0l7463: gherughehueg
H16h V0l7463: justforgetieverasked
H16h V0l7463: imsorryimgonnagohidenow
Drifter: Amir, WAIT
Drifter is typing…
H16h V0l7463: …
H16h V0l7463: ::waitinganxiously::
Drifter: Where did this even come from?
Ugh. Shit. He can’t think of a lie. He might as well tell the truth, right? At this point, he’s already made shit weird and awkward and shouldn’t have even asked at all.
H16h V0l7463: okay you're gonna think i'm a creep but i swear to Sol i am NOT and i wasn't stalking you or anything
H16h V0l7463: okay that sounded really bad and def what a stalker would say
H16h V0l7463: BUT I SWEAR I’M NOT
H16h V0l7463: okay i
H16h V0l7463: i saw you and Quincy last night leaving his rooms and he said something about pleasure and not letting anyone see you together and i just ASSUMED you were screwing because he's a pretty bastard who’s always getting laid and
H16h V0l7463: iwanttogodiern
Drifter: Okay, slow down. Breathe.
Drifter: First of all, no, I am not fucking Quincy. I’m not with anyone like that.
The sheer relief that washes over his entire body in this moment is honestly a little embarrassing.
Drifter: PLEASE don’t tell Arthur this, but I’ve been helping Quincy acquire some items that he can resell to people. You saw us after a business exchange. That’s all.
Drifter: Secondly, even if I was sleeping with Quincy, what does that have to do with “team morale”?
H16h V0l7463: …. Iguessitdoesnt
Drifter: So why did you ask?
Shit. Okay, he could admit what he saw and overheard, but he can’t admit this . Not yet. If at all. Ever.
H16h V0l7463: no reason honestly
H16h V0l7463: you're my bestie and he’s my brother
H16h V0l7463: and we’re like family so
H16h V0l7463: seemedimportantiguess
There is another pause while he assumes you’re reading, catching up; he does type insanely fast.
Drifter: Okay.
Drifter: I have a question now.
Oh Sol.
Drifter: Amir, were you.. Jealous?
Oh Sol.
How does he even - deny. Yep. MISSION D3NY IS A GO.
H16h V0l7463: nope
H16h V0l7463: i mean im swimmin’ in companions
H16h V0l7463: just wake up everyday surrounded by naked beautiful people
H16h V0l7463: i have to beat them off with a stick
H16h V0l7463: wait… that came out wrong
H16h V0l7463: whatever
A small voice in his head keeps telling him to log the fuck off right now before he says something else stupid but he can’t. You’re typing again and he needs to see it, to know what you’re going to say.
Drifter: Damn, now I’m jealous.
Wait what.
WhAT?!
You’re just teasing. Joking. Gotta be. Right? Right. Yeah. Fuck. Why is his face so fucking hot right now, what the fuuuuuujjjhh jgeprjgiejge what should he saaayy??
H16h V0l7463: LOL
H16h V0l7463: um ok gladwehadthistalk
H16h V0l7463: igottagodoathingbaiii
The moment he signs out, he starts mentally slapping himself for… literally everything he just said.
But! You’re not dating or fucking any of the Hex! And you said you’re jealous of what was totally an obvious lie! And yeah it was probably a joke because friends joke about shit like that, right? Right. BUT STILL!
The high of that alone has him doing laps around the mall until Arthur threatens to lock him in a dog kennel.